by Kevin Kwan
“You know, it might sound cliché, but getting away from it all has been a transformative experience for me. I’ve realized that so many of my fears aren’t really my own. They’re the fears of my mother, my father, my grandparents. I’ve just unconsciously internalized them, and I’ve let these fears affect every decision I make. So a few people see me naked on a secluded beach in one of the remotest places on earth. Who cares? I’m proud of my body, I have nothing to hide. But of course, some voice in my head would automatically say, ‘Astrid, put some clothes on. It’s not proper. You’re a Leong, and you’re going to disgrace the family.’ And I realize that most of the time it’s my mother’s disapproving voice I hear.”
“Your mother has always driven you half crazy,” Charlie said as he piled another big helping of guinataang sugpo over his garlic rice.*
“I know, and it’s not all her fault. She said some terrible things to me, but I’ve already forgiven her. She’s damaged herself—look, this was a woman that was born during World War II, in the midst of the most unimaginable horrors occurring in Singapore. How could she not have internalized all the experiences of my grandparents? My grandfather was imprisoned by the Japanese and barely escaped the firing squad, my grandmother was covertly helping to organize resistance efforts while being a new mother and trying not to get killed herself.”
Charlie nodded. “My mother’s entire childhood was spent at the Endau concentration camp in Malaysia. Her family was forced to grow all their own food, and they almost starved to death. I’m sure that’s why my mother is the way she is now. She makes her cook save money by buying the discounted, three-day-old bread from the supermarket, but she’ll spend $30,000 on plastic surgery for her pet fish. It’s completely irrational.”
Astrid looked out onto the view of the peaceful cove below the terrace. “Scientists talk about how we inherit health issues from our parents through our genes, but we also inherit this entire lineage of fear and pain—generations of it. I can acknowledge whenever my mother is reacting out of this fear, but the most powerful thing I’ve realized is that I’m not responsible for her pain. I won’t make her fears mine any longer and I don’t want to pass them on to my son!”
Charlie stared at Astrid, pondering her words. “I like everything you’re saying, but I gotta ask—who are you? It’s like you’re speaking in a whole new language.”
Astrid smiled enigmatically. “I have to confess, I’ve been here for the past five weeks but I haven’t been here alone. When I left Singapore, I went to Paris first and saw my friend Grégoire. He told me about a friend of his who was living in Palawan. That’s really why I came here. I had no intention of being anywhere near Asia—I was on my way to Morocco, to a place I know in the Atlas Mountains. But Grégoire really encouraged me to see his friend.”
“Who is this person?”
“Her name is Simone-Christine de Ayala.”
“Is she related to Pedro Paulo and Evangeline in Hong Kong?”
“Turns out they are cousins—it’s a big family. Anyway, I’m not quite sure how to describe her. Some people call her an energy worker or a healer. To me she’s just a very wise soul, and she has a beautiful home on a neighboring island. We’ve met up almost every day since I got here and had these amazing talks. She’s led me through these guided meditations that have led to some incredible breakthroughs.”
“Like what?” Charlie asked, suddenly getting worried that Astrid was under the influence of some quack guru.
“Well, the biggest one is realizing that I’ve lived my entire life trying to anticipate the fears of my parents—trying to be that perfect daughter at all costs, never putting a wrong foot forward, never speaking to the press. And look where that’s gotten me? By trying to hide behind that façade of perfection, by trying to always keep my personal life and my relationships so goddamn private, I’ve actually done far more damage than if I’d just lived my life the way I wanted to in the first place!”
Charlie nodded, a little relieved. “I couldn’t agree more, actually. To me, it’s always seemed like you’ve lived your whole life in the shadows. You’re so much smarter and more talented than anyone’s ever given you credit for, and I’ve always thought you were in the perfect position to be doing so much more.”
“Do you know how many things I’ve wanted to do that have been shot down by my parents? When I graduated from college and got that great job offer from Yves Saint Laurent in Paris, they told me to come home. Then they wouldn’t let me start my own fashion business—it was just too common for them. Then when I wanted to work for certain very unfashionable causes, like the horrific problem of human trafficking and child prostitution in Southeast Asia, they wouldn’t hear of it. The only acceptable thing for Astrid Leong to do is serve on the board of certain well-vetted institutions, and even those had to be on one of the super-private committees, nothing that would put me in the public eye. It’s like my family has lived for generations so frightened of their own wealth, of the fact that someone might accuse us of being rich, of being vulgar and showy. To me, it’s our wealth that puts us in the fortunate position of being able to do an enormous amount of good in the world, not hide from the world!”
Charlie clapped his hands excitedly. “So come back, Astrid. Come back with me and we can do this together. I know you were in a completely different head space when you wrote me that letter, so I’m going to forget you ever wrote it. I want us to be together. I want you to be my wife, to live your life and be exactly the woman you want to be.”
Astrid looked away for a moment, staring up at the beautiful white villa gleaming in the sun. “It’s not that simple…I don’t know if I’m ready to return yet. I think I need to repair myself for a while longer before I can face the world I left behind.”
“Astrid! The world you left behind has changed so much. Can I please tell you what’s been happening? I think it will help,” Charlie pleaded.
Astrid took a deep breath. “Okay, tell me what you want to tell me.”
“Well first of all, Isabel is out of her coma, and it looks like she’s on her way to a great recovery. She’s suffered quite a bit of memory loss, and she has no clue what happened to her that night, but she’s going to be okay.”
“Thank God,” Astrid muttered, closing her eyes.
“The other big thing that you need to know is that Michael has signed your divorce papers with no contest.”
“What?” Astrid sat up in her chair, completely shocked. “How did this happen?”
“Well, it’s quite a tangled story, but let’s start with the leaked video. It turns out that Isabel was the one who had the video first, not Michael. She had us under surveillance all along. The paparazzi tailing us in India, the video of us in my bedroom, that was all her doing.”
Astrid shook her head in disbelief. “How did she do all this?”
Charlie smiled. “You’re never going to believe it. You know that raggy old stuffed giraffe that Delphine has?”
“Yes! The one she can’t sleep without every night?”
“It was a gift from Isabel, and it turns out there was a very sophisticated camera and recording device implanted inside.”
“Oh my God…”
“Delphine would drag the damn stuffed animal with her between both houses, so Isabel always knew my every move. And she got the footage of us completely by accident, because Delphine had slept in my room the night before you came over and left the giraffe on the chest at the foot of my bed.”
“No wonder the footage was shot from such a weird angle!” Astrid said with a little laugh. “But how in the world did she get this sophisticated nanny cam made?”
“Michael helped her. They were in cahoots all along. It came out after Isabel’s suicide attempt, and the police got involved investigating the source of the video clip on her phone.”
Astrid shook her head sadly. “So they ganged up�
��the two bitter ex-spouses.”
“Yep. But their little partnership is also the silver lining in all this. I flew to Singapore a few weeks ago and had a nice long chat with Michael. I told him he could withdraw the lawsuit, sign the divorce papers, and go on enjoying his life as a billionaire bachelor, or he could do the following: First, he could go to jail for aiding and abetting Isabel in her illegal surveillance. Second, he could go to jail for extortion, since he stupidly sent you the video with that text message demanding $5 billion. And third, he could go to jail for being linked to the malicious leak of the video. By the time the Singapore court system is done with all the charges that I would bring against him, he could very well spend the rest of his life in Changi Prison, or worse, he could be extradited to Hong Kong and then sent to a prison camp in Northeast China, near the Russian border, where guys that look as pretty as he does end up having a very sore time.”
Astrid leaned back into her chair, taking it all in.
Charlie grinned. “Michael has promised to never be of any trouble to you or Cassian. Ever again. So the minute you put your name on those divorce papers, you’ll be a free woman.”
“A free woman,” Astrid said the words softly to herself. “Charlie, I love you, and I’m so grateful for everything you’ve done for me over the past few weeks. If I’m being true to myself—to the new me—and if I’m being completely honest with you, I just don’t know if I really want to get married again right now. I’m not sure I’m ready to return to Singapore yet. I’ve been exploring these islands quite a bit, getting to know the locals, and I am really connecting to this place. I think there’s a great deal I could do right here to help the indigenous people. I could really use more time here, and what I really want is to send for Cassian. I’ve seen how happy the kids are in these islands…their lives are so integrated with nature, they’re so free and adventurous. They run along the narrow little prows of wooden boats like sailors, they climb the trees like acrobats and knock down all the ripe coconuts. They laugh and they laugh. It reminds me a little of the kind of childhood I had at Tyersall Park. Cassian’s whole life these days is about homework and exams and Chinese lessons and tennis lessons and piano competitions, and then when he’s not doing that he’s just glued to his computer screen playing those violent games. I can’t remember the last time I saw him laugh. If I’m going to live a new life of true freedom, I want the same freedom for him too.”
Charlie peered deep into Astrid’s eyes. “Listen, I want you to have exactly the kind of life you’ve dreamed about, for yourself and for Cassian. My only question to you is: In this new life, is there a place for me?”
Astrid looked at Charlie, not sure what to say.
* * *
* Fresh caught jumbo prawns in coconut milk, a Palawan delicacy.
CHAPTER TEN
ANTWERP, BELGIUM
Kitty stood in the middle of the space, staring at the exquisite alchemy of furnishings, objets, nature, and light. There was an elegant purity to the way everything was arranged, and the room emanated a calm and quietly invigorating energy. “This is what I want! This is how I want Tyersall Park to be,” she told Oliver. They were in the midst of wandering through Kanaal, a nineteenth-century complex of industrial spaces next to a former grain silo on the Albert Canal that had been breathtakingly transformed into the atelier and private showroom of Axel Vervoordt, one of the world’s most esteemed interior designers.
“We’re already halfway there, Kitty. Tyersall Park has amazing bones, and it’s got that perfect patina of age that no amount of money can buy. We wouldn’t have to import any new floors or create new walls that look like they came from the seventeenth century. But look how this bronze ax from the Neolithic period changes the whole vibe of the room. And these simple ferns wilting beautifully on this refectory table. It’s all about placement, and Axel is the master of all this.”
“I want to meet him right now!” Kitty said.
“Don’t worry, he’ll be here very soon. Didn’t you hear what his assistant said? He’s having lunch with Queen Mathilde of Belgium right now,” Oliver whispered.
“Oh, I couldn’t understand his accent. I thought he said he was in the middle of reading Matilda. I was thinking, why is this man reading a children’s book when I’ve flown all the way here to meet him?”
“Axel’s work is held in such high esteem, his clients include many of the world’s crowned heads,” Oliver informed Kitty as they wandered into a dramatically lit chamber that was, coincidentally enough, filled with nothing but ancient Buddha heads carved out of stone.
“Can we do this somewhere in the garden? I think it would be so cool to wander through the forest and just find a bunch of Buddha heads everywhere,” Kitty suggested.
Oliver chuckled to himself, trying to imagine how Victoria Young might react to the sight of dozens of Buddhas scattered around Tyersall Park. Still, Kitty’s idea wasn’t half bad. Maybe the way to really launch Kitty into the social stratosphere would be to style her as Singapore’s answer to Peggy Guggenheim, and have the grounds of Tyersall Park become a venue for contemporary art like Storm King in New York or the Chinati Foundation in Marfa. They could have the world’s greatest artists in residence to create site-specific installations. Christo could wrap the entire house in silver fabric, James Turrell could create a light projection in the conservatory, and maybe Ai Weiwei could do something controversial with the lily pond.
In the midst of his reverie, there was a sudden flurry of activity as Axel Vervoordt entered the room, impeccably dressed in a gray suit with a black turtleneck, and surrounded by a monastic entourage of assistants. “Oliver T’sien, what a pleasure to see you again!” the legendary antiquarian said.
“Axel, the pleasure is all mine. May I introduce Mrs. Jack Bing.”
“Welcome to Kanaal,” Axel said, giving Kitty a courtly bow.
“Thank you. Axel, I am in awe of your creations! I’ve never seen anything quite like this before, and I feel like I just want to move in here right now,” Kitty effused.
“Thank you. Mrs. Bing, if you enjoy what you see here, perhaps I can invite you to visit me at my private residence Kasteel van’s-Gravenwezel while you are with us in Antwerp.”
“You won’t want to miss this, Kitty. Kasteel van’s-Gravenwezel is one of the most beautiful castles in the world,” Oliver explained.
Kitty batted her eyelashes at Axel. “I’d love to!”
“If I had known earlier that the two of you were coming today, I would have invited you to lunch. Her Majesty the Queen honored us with her presence today, and she brought along a most delightful couple.”
“I hope you had a lovely time,” Oliver said.
“We did, we did. This young couple have just acquired the most magnificent property in Singapour. It is apparently the largest private estate on the island.”
Kitty’s face went pale.
Axel continued. “Wait a minute—it completely escaped my mind. You’re from Singapour, aren’t you, Oliver?”
“Indeed I am,” Oliver said, forcing a smile.
“Have you heard of this property? Apparently it’s quite an architectural folly—a mixture of styles and periods, but set on sixty-four acres. Tivoli Park, I think it is called.” Axel cocked his head.
Kitty calmly walked out onto the balcony of the showroom and could be seen jabbing her iPhone screen frantically.
“Actually, I believe you mean Tyersall Park,” Oliver corrected him.
“Yes, that’s the place! Apparently, the lady’s father has given her the property as a wedding present, and she wants me to help her with the redo. It will be quite the commission.”
Oliver looked out the window, where Kitty was screaming in Mandarin and gesticulating wildly into her phone. “I know you never discuss your clients, but I’m going to guess that the couple were an English lord and his Chinese wife?”
<
br /> Axel smiled. “Nothing escapes you, does it? I haven’t attempted anything on this scale before in Asia, and I do believe I’m going to be calling on you for some help.”
“Congratulations, Axel. It would be a pleasure,” Oliver managed to utter as he felt like he was going to throw up.
“Now, what can I do for you and Mrs. Bing?”
Oliver watched Kitty fling her cell phone off the balcony into the canal far below. “Oh we were just in the neighborhood. I’m about to take her to meet Dries at Het Modepaleis, so I figured we should stop by.”
···
“He said Colette was a new woman. That she had transformed her life and he was proud of her for wanting to do something good in the world. That’s why she needed a proper house in Singapore. How gullible can you be?” Kitty cried.
“Yes, let it out. Let it all out,” a soothing voice above her said.
“He said that Colette had made a secret trip to see him in Shanghai. She had prostrated herself at his feet and begged for his forgiveness. Can you fucking believe it?” Kitty was lying on the massage table, her head in the face cradle, as her massage therapist Elenya placed a row of hot stones along her spine.
“Good, good. As I place this stone on your lower back, I want you to really feel it burn into your second chakra, and I want you to go deeper into your anger and release it,” Elenya encouraged.
“He said, ‘Do not make me choose between you and my daughter, because you will lose. I only have one daughter, and I can always get another wife.’ I hate him I hate him I hate him!” Kitty screamed, tears flowing freely and dripping on the tatami-matted floor.
Suddenly the floor trembled violently, and a couple of the stones rolled off her back onto the side of the table. Oliver, sitting in an armchair next to the massage table, pulled his seat belt tighter.
“That wasn’t turbulence, Kitty. That was your anger releasing into the universe. How does it feel?” Elenya asked, as she began to rub Kitty’s feet with a steaming hot towel.
